


this night just can't end

by Meridas



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Mansion Fic, Other, Porn with Feelings, just the softest of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-31 06:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridas/pseuds/Meridas
Summary: Some fights come closer than others, but there's always time later to take care of each other.





	this night just can't end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silkmouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silkmouse/gifts).

> Happy birthday, Silk! <3

Stepping into Caleb's magical mansion is always a welcome relief, especially after as hard a fight as they've had. Molly isn't quite limping anymore as he passes through the doorway, but he also makes no protest when Yasha wraps her arm around his shoulders in support. He bumps his horn into her shoulder in thanks. 

"Please tell me that you made the really nice baths, Caleb," Jester says, wrinkling her nose. Her dress is caked in mud and spattered with blood, not that the rest of them are faring any better. It’s been a hell of a day, to say the least. 

“_Ja, naturlich. _ It is in the same place as always.” Caleb closes the Mansion door behind them, and Molly can see the sigh of relief that leaves him now that they’re all safe. He reaches out, looping his tail around Caleb’s wrist to pull him closer. His wizard comes easily to his side, and takes Molly’s hand in his. 

“_Last one to the spa is a rotten troll dick! _” Jester hollers, her voice echoing at top volume down the hallway. Yasha spares Molly a quick glance, and then picks up Nott under her arm and takes off after her. Molly laughs after them, but he doesn’t give up Caleb’s hand to go tear off after them just yet. 

In fact, Caleb holds him back for a moment, until the others have made their way downstairs to the open baths as they usually do after a messy fight. Instead of following, Caleb tugs him gently toward the other stairs, leading toward their bedroom. 

"May I take care of you tonight?" Caleb asks quietly. "I made something—I mean, if you would rather—” 

Molly leans in close to Caleb and kisses him softly. He'd have to be not just a fool but an idiot as well not to know the root of Caleb's anxieties tonight. Faint traces of dust still drift from Molly's shirt, and Caleb's hands still bear a few cuts from the moment his magic stone shattered over Molly's prone form. He only remembers a blur, really, a bad fight to be sure but something that he managed to stagger away from in the end—but the lingering tremble in Caleb’s voice and the unusual clinginess in his hands tells him how close it was, how bad it looked from the other side. 

“I always love to see what you dream up for me in here,” he says with a small smile. He squeezes Caleb’s hand. “Lead the way, darling.”

The corners of Caleb’s mouth lift in a small returning smile, which eases Molly’s mind quite a bit. For all that Caleb keeps sneaking glances at him like he’s afraid he’ll disappear, he also huffs out a laugh when Molly pats him on the ass with his tail.

He’s never sure what to expect when Caleb leads him back to their bedroom in the magical mansion. This time, Caleb doesn’t stop at the bedroom door, however—he leads Molly past the fireplace and up to a new door in their room. He pauses at the door, looking at Molly expectantly. There's the familiar combination of pride and anxiety in Caleb's expression, the one he gets when he's done something magical and amazing for one of them, just waiting for a response. Molly brushes a kiss against his temple, and reaches for the door. 

He gasps a little at the sight. "Oh, Caleb." He gives his hand a little squeeze and pulls him eagerly through the doorway. "You've outdone yourself, darling."

His voice echoes off the high ceilings, reverberating and softening with the constant sound of burbling water. It feels elegant and spacious here, all flawless white stone shot through with veins of gold and rosy pink. Gentle, diffused light shines from somewhere, sending glimmering reflections from the water sparkling across the walls. The bath awaiting them is already full, set deep into the floor and cloudy with heat. It looks like it belongs in a palace, nothing like anything a carnival barker like him could hope to afford in a lifetime. But Caleb’s thought it up, just for him. Just for the two of them to share. 

Molly turns and pulls Caleb in close. For a long moment he just stands there, hugging Caleb around the waist with his face buried in his neck, and thinks a small prayer of thanks to the Moonweaver for setting him on the path that led him to this wonderful man.

“Thank you,” he says aloud to Caleb. He nuzzles into Caleb’s neck and kisses the soft, warm spot behind his ear that always makes Caleb shiver. “You’re very good to me, have I thanked you enough for that lately?” 

Caleb’s little huff of breath stirs through his hair. “It’s not just… I want—” His hands trail up Molly’s back, following the path of his spine, up and down as Caleb finds his words. Molly closes his eyes and breathes in deep, waits. 

“I was afraid for you, today,” Caleb finally admits quietly. “And I just… I wanted to do something for you, or maybe it’s for me. Maybe this is selfish.”

Molly draws back slowly, just enough to kiss Caleb’s cheek without scaring his fretful hands away. “I’m perfectly happy with this kind of selfish,” he promises. He squeezes Caleb gently around the middle. “Trust me, love, I’m very happy to be spoiled. Encourage it, even.” 

With a much lighter smile, Caleb reaches up to cup Molly’s face in his hands. “In that case, I’d like to spoil you tonight, _ schatz_.” He presses his lips to Molly’s forehead, then steps away and pushes him lightly towards the bath. “Go on, I need to grab a few things.” 

Hardly one to be told twice, Molly immediately wiggles out of his clothes and dips a toe into the pool. The water is blessedly hot as he slips in, and he lets out a sigh of contentment. He closes his eyes, happy to just adjust to the faint sting of hot water against his overworked muscles until he hears the faint splash of Caleb joining him in the bath.

Molly lets out another deep sigh as Caleb gently tugs his hair free. It falls down over Molly’s shoulders and into the water, and he can feel where it’s tangled up and dirty in spots. He feels a kiss pressed to the top of his head, and then Caleb’s hands run carefully through his loose hair. Molly groans softly in appreciation as those strong, clever fingers dig into his scalp. He lets his head lean into Caleb’s hands, losing all the tension in his neck. 

“Tell me if you are still hurting anywhere,” Caleb says, his soft voice carrying throughout the room. Molly gives him a hum of assent. There’s hardly any sound in here, just the quiet noises of the water against the sides of the bath. Molly closes his eyes and lets Caleb lean him back, dipping his hair slowly into the warm water.

Caleb’s hands are gentle, bordering on reverent as he follows the motions of their familiar little rituals. The scent of Molly’s favorite shampoo fills the air, like vanilla and exotic fruits. Caleb is exquisitely careful as he drags his fingertips soothingly over Molly’s scalp, as he works the tangles and clumps of dried blood out of his hair until it fans out, clean and weightless in the water. Molly keeps his eyes closed, but Caleb’s hands keep the water out of his face, shielding his forehead whenever he scoops fresh water over the top of his head. He knows all the steps now without needing to be told, working conditioner into his hair and silky oil over his horns and leaving them to sit. For several long minutes, they just rest together. Caleb wraps his arms over Molly’s shoulders and pulls him back against his chest, resting his chin carefully atop Molly’s head. His hand comes to rest over the top of Molly’s heart, and Molly reaches up to grasp it gently with one of his own. 

At least, Molly nudges Caleb into movement. “My turn,” he murmurs, and Caleb acquiesces with a quite mumble about how he’s fine. Molly smiles a little, but there’s no amount of harmless grumping that will stop him from taking care of Caleb. He wants it, anyway, to help work the remaining shakes out of his hands. It’s grounding, affirming that they’re both still here to perform these little rituals that Molly treasures.

When the last of the suds have washed away from both of them, Caleb climbs out first and reaches for a towel. Molly eases his aching body out just a moment behind. He steps into Caleb’s embrace and the towel he’s holding out, letting his wizard fold him into the warm cloth and wrap him up securely. For a moment, Caleb just stands there, hugging him over the towel, his face tucked into Molly’s newly-clean hair. 

Molly kisses Caleb’s shoulder briefly. “Better now?” 

Caleb hesitates, still breathing deeply. His hand runs slowly up and down Molly's back. "_Ja,_" he murmurs into his skin. He sniffs a little, and Molly's heart aches. He presses his lips to Caleb's jaw. 

"I'm here, dear heart," he whispers. "Caleb. My Caleb, I'm not leaving you. I'm here."

Caleb lifts his head, his eyes bright and intense as he takes Molly in. His hand shifts, coming around to cup Molly's cheek. He's so warm, every rough spot on his hands so familiar, and Molly leans into it easily. Caleb’s hand slides to the back of his neck, warm and steady. Molly lets himself follow the gentle pull and lean into Caleb’s chest again, feeling a happy purr start to vibrate in his throat. His wizard is so warm, and so good to him, and the way Caleb holds him tight and scatters kisses across his face sparks a sweet ache inside him. 

Molly tilts his head back up, and Caleb gives him the kiss he wants without needing a word. His thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle at the base of Molly’s skull. Molly sighs into the kiss, opening and pressing closer to the warmth of Caleb’s lips on his. The swelling desire inside him wants to be even closer, wants no space left between him and his love, and Molly goes up on his toes almost in desperation. Caleb sways back, then catches him, one arm tight around his waist while the other hand slides into his hair and he doesn’t stop kissing Molly for a moment. 

Eventually they have to come apart for a second, just barely, lips still brushing as they take quick gasps of air. “Take me to bed,” Molly breathes. He wants _ closer, _ needs to feel Caleb inside and out. By the way Caleb's fingers dig into his skin, the almost-desperate way he kissed him, he knows that he feels the same.

The towel gets left unceremoniously on the floor.

Molly lets himself be moved, lets Caleb guide them back toward the bed as he focuses on kissing every freckle that trails down Caleb’s pale neck. Caleb’s breath stutters, his arms warm and sure around Molly’s back, and they might sway more than a little on their path to the bed, but to Molly it feels almost like dancing. When his calves finally hit the edge of soft sheets and blankets, he loops his tail up along Caleb’s arm, safely out of the way. 

“Love you,” he hums into the lovely bruise he’s forming on Caleb’s skin, and then he’s being tipped back with all the care and gentleness in the world. He opens his eyes to find Caleb looking down at him, expression laid bare and achingly fond. 

“I love you,” Caleb says quietly back, brushing his fingertips along the side of Molly’s face. Molly shivers at the touch, at the decadent feel of the smooth sheets beneath his bare skin, the wonderful warmth of the room and the undeniable heat in Caleb’s eyes. He winds his arms around Caleb’s neck and pulls him close.

Caleb’s weight on top of him is comforting, a lean cover of warm skin and enough pressure that it reminds him that he’s _ here_. He finds Caleb’s lips again, cleaves to the warmth of his mouth as Caleb takes over, pressing him gently into the bed. 

“Let me,” Caleb murmurs. His hands sweep down Molly’s sides, broad palms warm and soft from the bath, fingers splayed so that he caresses as much skin as possible. Molly shivers happily beneath him, leans up to swallow Caleb’s next words in yet another kiss. Caleb’s groan vibrates against his lips, and Molly would smile if he weren’t so preoccupied with the way Caleb’s tongue slides against his. He arches his back just a little, enough to press his torso further into Caleb’s hands without pushing so far that his battered muscles ache again. Caleb pulls his lip between his, not quite biting, but the pressure and graze of his teeth is there and Molly moans. There’s barely time to breathe between their kisses, but Molly wouldn’t have it another way and meets him gladly, dizzy and hungry and straining to be taken and held into his body, present and sure.

Finally, Caleb breaks the kiss so they can both catch their breath. He leans his forehead against Molly’s, one hand on his cheek. Molly just looks up at him from there, a little dizzy, very much breathless. Caleb’s deep blue eyes are soft and half-closed, the brush of dark eyelashes almost obscuring them. His thumb sweeps gently across Molly’s cheek, a steady arc of warm pressure, rhythmic and grounding. 

Slowly, Caleb’s hands resume their journey. As he scatters kisses across Molly’s cheeks, his hands descend back over his shoulders, tracing the sensitive line of his collarbone and raising goosebumps in their wake that have nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Caleb places a soft kiss on Molly’s eyelids, soft as a moth’s wings, as his fingers skate over the maze of raised scars that cover Molly’s chest. He ducks his head then, to kiss the warm skin above Molly’s heart, and Molly takes a deep breath and swallows down a thickness in his throat. He weaves his fingers into Caleb’s hair, not firm enough to try to guide him, just there and reassuring. Caleb raises his head again, his eyes still clear and calm and full of adoration. Molly smiles fondly, and Caleb returns it with a small smile and a soft kiss that would almost be chaste if Molly couldn’t feel the heavy length of his hardening cock against his thigh. He hums a little, just a soft affirmative that he’s okay. Caleb ducks his head into the crook of Molly’s neck, resting his lips against the steadily quickening pulse there. Molly can’t help another pleasant shiver across his skin, and he tilts his head further back, inviting and shameless. Caleb chuckles, sending a puff of ticklish air across his sensitive throat. 

Quick and hot, Molly feels Caleb’s tongue sweep across the warm spot of his pulse. A quiet noise escapes him, lost in the dim light of their room. He lets his hands drift down Caleb’s shoulders, enjoying the feel of warm, familiar skin laid bare to his touch as Caleb slowly but surely leaves a new mark on his throat. It sparks something hot and delighted in Molly whenever Caleb marks him where anyone could see—he used to feel a little foolish, that _ this _ of all things was what made him blush when it came to his and Caleb’s proclivities. But Caleb likes it, how Molly flushes when he realizes he’s getting a new mark. He’ll preen over it, later, and Caleb will laugh softly at him, and he’ll kiss the marks all over again. 

The quiet clink of glass draws his attention. He recognizes the bottle in Caleb’s hand, the same one as always—or, as Caleb tells him, a different one every time, newly made by magic, all of that wizard verbosity. What Molly knows is that it smells nice and feels even better, and he’s come to perk up in more ways than one at just the sight of it. His tail starts an eager swish across the sheets, and Caleb chuckles into the warm, tingly spot on his neck. 

“Could you turn over?” Caleb murmurs. “Just for now—I want… I—” He makes a frustrated little noise, one that Molly soothes away with a kiss. Caleb’s free hand traces along the paths that Molly’s scars leave along his ribs, and he thinks he knows what it is that Caleb’s after. He kisses him one more time, drinks in his fill—for now—of Caleb’s lips and breath and the way he kisses with all of his intense focus and care. Then he wiggles over onto his front, stretching languidly into the soft bed. If he rubs himself up against Caleb more than is strictly necessary, well, that’s just a pleasant bonus for both of them. 

Caleb’s warm lips settle on his shoulder immediately, breath ghosting over his skin. Caleb’s hand sweeps Molly’s damp hair aside, leaving him bare and waiting. Then one of his hands strokes long and smooth along his back, and the other slides tantalizingly over his ass. Molly pushes back into the touch, shameless and sensitive. Caleb laughs quietly, and Molly’s next remark leaves him as a happy moan as clever, slick fingers find his entrance with the ease of familiarity. “I’ve got you, _ schatz_,” Caleb murmurs, and kisses Molly’s temple one more time before he takes him apart. 

It’s maddening in the best way, being touched like this with no signs of Caleb reaching his fill. Every brush of Caleb’s lips or hand against his skin is echoed with by the fingers working steadily into him. Molly feels flushed all over, his skin sensitive all over as he waits to feel where Caleb will touch him next, waits for a deep push or a sweet crook of his fingers. One moment there’s a light, almost ticklish sweep of fingertips across his back, following a rambling path along the many scars he bears, and then Caleb twists his fingers and drags them back out and Molly keens into the sheets. If he rips any of the bedclothes here, at least they’re always in pristine condition next time they visit. And Caleb is always happy to bring him to that point, with wicked patience and a mind that remembers everything Molly likes and more. 

“Caleb,” he gasps. There’s an inquisitive hum behind him, a brush of lips at the back of his neck, and suddenly Caleb’s fingers circle and drag across his prostate and Molly shouts. 

“Come when you need to, Molly,” Caleb murmurs, right in his ear. “I want to see you feel good. Come on.” Molly’s tail lashes, thumps into Caleb’s thigh and wraps around him, holding tight. Caleb’s fingers don’t let up this time, teasing and pressing until Molly is writhing on his hand, his breath hot and muggy against the pillows. He ruts into the bed beneath him, shuddering at the friction, and _ oh _ he could definitely come like this if he just— 

Infernal spills across his lips in a rush of pleasure and relief as he falls over that edge, grinding between the bed and Caleb’s fingers, panting and flushed. He feels a kiss between his shoulder blades, soft but grounding. Caleb’s other hand sweeps up his flank, along his ribcage as he catches his breath and shakes through the aftershocks. He can’t help but whine a little when Caleb’s fingers slip out of him, and Caleb’s small chuckle drapes over him like sunlight. A light push at Molly’s hip, and he gathers himself enough to roll over as Caleb guides him out of the wet spot, once more looking up at his husband’s smile. 

Caleb kisses his lips again, soft and quick. “You sound so beautiful when you come, _ schatz,_” he says. The back of his hand skates up Molly’s inner thighs once more, promising. “Could you make those sounds again for me tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Molly gasps, already aching but hot with the idea of it. “I can, Caleb, please—” 

He reaches for him, and Caleb comes easily into his arms. Molly holds onto him tightly, still shivering with little waves of pleasure. “I want to feel you, too,” he says, pressing Caleb as close as he can and still wanting more. “Please, I still want you to fuck me.” 

Caleb kisses the fresh mark he’d left on Molly’s neck, and there’s a new rush of heat and happiness that shivers through him. “I know,” he promises, and bless him, he knows not to go far, either. It’s a little clumsier than normal, maybe, a little more oil gets spilled over Molly’s hip, but he gets to stay stuck to Caleb like a limpet, so he doesn’t care at all. Everything is warm and a little slick or sticky where they cling together, and Caleb smells like soap and sex and warm, flushed skin. His knuckles bump against Molly’s thigh as he takes himself in his slick hand, and Molly slides his hands back into Caleb’s hair and kisses him all over again. 

He’ll never get enough of the way Caleb kisses him, the taste of his moan as he guides his cock to Molly’s hole. Molly groans with him, tugs him closer, sweeps his tongue eagerly against Caleb’s. It’s almost too much, still almost too soon when Caleb slides inside him. But it’s the kind of too much that Molly relishes, the kind that sets his nerves alight again and makes him gasp into Caleb’s mouth.

Caleb presses deep inside him, and Molly can only moan with the sweet sting and satisfaction of the feeling. “‘S good,” he promises when Caleb pauses—he’s a little slow to get hard again, but _ fuck _ he’s sure that Caleb can make him come again like this. It’s the familiarity of it, and the devotion that Caleb puts into every kiss and stroke and thrust as he starts to move. He knows how to play Molly’s body like a fiddle, like the magic that he spins so easily from his fingertip. And he _ loves _him, and shows it with every moment and every spark of pleasure that passes between them. 

Molly hitches his leg higher around Caleb’s waist and trembles, squeezes his eyes shut until stars burst behind his eyelids. Caleb’s thrusts are getting quicker, his kisses clumsy between panting breaths. Molly’s fingers must be digging into his skin, clutching at him every time Caleb’s cock slides across his sweet spot and pulls another cry from his throat. There’s nonsense spilling from Molly’s mouth, just Caleb’s name and half-broken words that might be any language full of _ more _ and _ please _ and _ love_. “Caleb,” he begs, clenching down, rocking up to reach for more friction between their bodies, “_Caleb_—” 

Caleb crushes his lips to Molly’s, slips his hand between them and wraps those wonderful, clever fingers around him. Molly cries out, senseless and lost as his second orgasm crashes over him. He shakes in Caleb’s arms, clenches tight around his cock and holds onto him as it rushes through his body. There’s a faint taste of iron in his mouth and Caleb gasps, then shudders, coming hard where he’s buried deep inside. 

Molly pulls himself together enough to give Caleb’s lip an apologetic little lick, and Caleb’s hips stutter and jerk once more against his. There are no more coherent words left in Molly’s head, just a helpless gasp at the feeling. He lets his arms relax, winds them around Caleb’s shoulders and holds him close as they both slowly drift back down. 

Finally, Caleb recovers his senses and slowly pulls away. Molly lays right where he is, still recovering his breath. He just puts his hand out with a mumble, unwilling to lose contact with Caleb just yet. A soft hum answers his wordless request, and Caleb drops his cheek back to Molly’s hand and closes his eyes for a long moment. 

Long after Molly’s lost track of the seconds, Caleb gives a satisfied groan and pushes himself up onto one elbow. There’s a little flicker of arcane power that sparks at his fingertips, a gesture that Molly has come to know as Caleb changing something small about his mansion. When Caleb pats the bed and draws Molly back to him, Molly almost bursts out laughing. The sheets are dry and clean again, and Caleb has a very satisfied look about him as he looks down at Molly. 

Molly wiggles down into the warm sheets with a happy sigh. “I love you.” 

Caleb draws the blankets over them, wrapping them up around Molly. “Magic can do wonderful things, can’t it?” He leaves his arm around Molly’s shoulder, too, drawing him close. 

Molly blinks. “Sure,” he says. He brings his hand up to Caleb’s face, tracing the beloved lines of his cheeks with his fingertips. “You know I mean you, right? It’s not your magic, Caleb. It’s not anything you can do. It’s just you. I love _ you_.” He places a small kiss against Caleb’s lips. “I love you very much.” 

“I know,” Caleb promises. He kisses the end of Molly’s nose. “I do, _ schatz_, I promise. _ Ich liebe dich auch._” 

“Good.” Molly snuggles into Caleb’s chest, finding his favorite spot to fall asleep. He can feel the steady rise and fall of Caleb’s breathing and the slow stroke of his hand running over his hair, and he falls asleep easily knowing that he’s safe, and warm, and very much loved.

**Author's Note:**

> work title from Human, by dodie.


End file.
